


i was you in the day, you were me in the night

by spndrea



Category: EXO (Band), SHINee
Genre: Canon Compliant, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Smut, Their relationship over the years, only at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 04:00:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14584479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spndrea/pseuds/spndrea
Summary: There wasn’t a single thing in life that Kim Jongin would see as a constant. As something that would always be there, that would always keep him grounded and make him see the truth in statements like "Do what you love and love what you do" or "Chase your dreams". It’s always been like that, and Jongin didn’t see that change any time soon.





	i was you in the day, you were me in the night

There wasn’t a single thing in life that Kim Jongin would see as a _constant._ As something that would always be there, that would always keep him grounded and make him see the truth in statements like _Do what you love and love what you do_ or _Chase your dreams._ It’s always been like that, and Jongin didn’t see that change any time soon.

 

That was, until his family dragged him along to see the Nutcracker musical with his two sisters, where afterwards he got home and couldn’t for the life of him stop gushing over the fluency, the accuracy, the _perfection_ he had just seen being exuded in the ballet choreographies.

 

It took little conviction on his part for his parents to let him join first a Jazz class before later switching to a ballet class and finding the first constant in his life, and by his fifth year of going to lessons multiple times a week he couldn’t imagine a life without dancing anymore.

 

So when Jongin got scouted by SM Entertainment at thirteen years old, no words would’ve been able to describe the feeling of utter happiness he’d felt that day after his mother ran into his room, eyes big and mouth open in what could only have been shock, before nearly _shouting_ at Jongin that he’d won the Youth Best Contest. Maybe it was really his time to chase his dream, now.

 

He went to the studio for the first time the very next day, not concentrating in the slightest while wasting the hours in school away by absentmindedly doodling into his books. His head was nearly hurting by the time he packed his things with how much he’d spent wondering what would expect him, what would be expected _from_ him, whether he was good enough, but once he stood in front of the large building with his bicycle neatly parked in the driveway before making his way through the door.

 

When he returned home that evening, Jongin felt like his limbs were about to die in the best way possible. He doesn’t think that, even in his previous years of Jazz- and Ballet practice, he’d ever felt _this_ exhausted. He barely had the energy to eat his mom’s dinner, let alone take a much-needed shower, but managed to fight the drooping eyes and sore muscles before collapsing into his bed, falling asleep with a smile on his face while tiredly recalling the day’s events.

 

The following weeks were spent pretty much the same, nearly like a ritual, really. He woke up in the morning, got ready for school, did his homework while sitting in class, waited for the bell to finally dismiss him before rushing towards the studio.

 

Today wasn’t anything different; he had just stepped into one of the dance studios and started rehearsing the choreography given to the new trainees for the weekly evaluation. He was worried, obviously, that he would disappoint anyone. It’d always been a big fear of his, not being good enough for something he so _desperately_ wanted, so he did every step hundreds of times, rooting for absolute perfection in every way, but he knew he would never be satisfied.

 

Not as long as he didn’t hear that he’d improved, anyway.

 

As he was going through a particularly hard part of the choreography - which had caused more than one sleepless night while rehearsing in his small room at home until he _finally_ got it right – he was completely inversed in the reflection of his own moves in the big mirror in front of him, observing every step carefully while keeping up with the upbeat song that accompanied the dance.

 

The song faded out, leaving only Jongin’s harsh breaths fill the room and he was just about to grab his water bottle when a slow hum sounded through the halls, followed by a skeptical voice saying, “you did that move wrong.”

 

Jongin turned around, facing the boy standing by the door. He’d seen him around the studio once or twice, maybe, but he had no name to match the scrawny boy with tousled black hair. After looking at the boy probably a beat too long, Jongin scoffed slightly. “I really don’t think I did,” is what Jongin responded, crossing his arms in front of his chest and resisting the urge to pout his lips.

 

“Uh, yes, you did,” the boy continued in the same voice as before, lacing seemingly even more judgement into his words, “our choreographer _just_ showed me this exact part, like, ten minutes ago, and you’re doing it wrong.”

 

Now, Jongin isn’t someone to argue about things that are just plain useless, but something about the way the other boy stood in front of him – as if he would bet his whole money on being right in a _second –_ made Jongin want to prove him wrong _so bad._

“Alright, then show me how it’s supposed to be done, since you’re _so sure_ you’ve got it right,” said Jongin, exasperation overtaking his voice. And upon hearing that, the boy in front of him heaved a sigh, like showing Jongin a four-step dance move was the most exhausting thing he ever had to do, before counting the beats and maneuvering his body to follow the choreography.

 

Except it _wasn’t_ their choreography _._ It looked completely wrong, but the way the boy executed the moves so fluidly, so confidently, made it look _right_ in the worst way possible. It was a sequence of maybe ten seconds at most, but to Jongin it felt like he’d been watching the lean boy shift through the movements for _minutes_ before he finally stopped, returning his eyes to Jongin’s without his breathing having picked up in the slightest.

 

It was aggravating how everything the boy executed – even if it was utterly _wrong –_ seemed to be so easy and completely controlled.

 

Jongin noticed he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even moved his eyes from where they were staring the other boy down in what must have looked like a murderous glare. Jongin shook his head slightly, declaring in an irritated tone, “that looked _nothing_ like what we’re supposed to be doing! Haven’t you, like, paid attention at all?”

 

The boy looked slightly taken aback for a second, though quickly composed himself after combing his thin fingers through his neat black hair, making a few strands stick out of place. Jongin heard the boy scoff loudly before saying, “I paid attention, but you obviously didn’t, if the way you completely messed up a whole part of the choreography is anything to go by.”

 

“I’m telling you, you’re the one doing it all wrong! I just went over the whole dance yesterday, don’t just come in here and tell me-“

 

Jongin’s little rant was promptly cut off by the sound of the door to the practice room opening heavily and the loud demand of, “what the hell is going on here?” by their choreographer. Jongin was frozen momentarily with his mouth open until he heard the boy still standing opposite of him recite everything they’d just been arguing about.

 

When he was done, they both just stared at their teacher for a while, watching him shake his head and heave an exasperated sigh before he asked for the music to be put back on. The boy looked at Jongin satisfied, as if he’d already proven himself to be right.

 

The choreographer moved through the steps, following the music with a fast pace but still smooth enough for Jongin to see that he was _clearly-_

 

Not right?

 

But according to Jongin’s memory and the other boy’s dumbstruck expression, neither was he. _At least something,_ Jongin thought a bit bitterly.

 

“Is it clear now?” The teacher asked, already making his way towards the exit again as they both nodded dumbly. “Alright, get back to practice, you two. Your evaluation is in two days.”

 

When the door clicked shut again, they both stared at the wall beside the other in silence. After a few seconds Jongin saw the other avert his gaze to look at him, so Jongin followed the motion and, upon seeing the other desperately trying to hold in his laughter, burst out in loud giggles.

 

The other soon joined him, letting out wheezing breaths while trying to keep as quiet as possible, trying to avoid getting scolded again for not practicing. Jongin covered his mouth with his hand, also attempting to muffle the laughs escaping his lips while his shoulders shook.

 

It took them a few minutes to calm down and catch their breaths again, and as soon as the room was free of any sound, the black-haired boy broke the silence once again. “Oh, man, that was _so_ stupid. I’d say sorry if it wasn’t so hilarious.

 

Jongin snorted, agreeing with a, “you’re right, I was literally ready to fight you!” At that, the other’s eyes seemed to widen a bit, at which Jongin just let out a quick laugh again.

 

“Well,” he began again, Jongin’s eyes following him as he made his way towards the small iPod connected to the music boxes, “we both know the routines now, so let’s train together? I’m Taemin.”

 

 _Taemin._ Jongin reflected on his previous days in the studios, if he’d ever heard that name, but came up empty. It wasn’t surprising, there were too many young boys and girls training here to know every single person’s name.

 

“I’m Jongin, and yeah, sounds good to me,” he then responded, Taemin looking over his shoulder with a grin before starting the music again and getting into position to start the routine.

 

 

They stayed in the training rooms until day gave to night, only leaving when they were ushered out by the janitor who had to clean the room for the next day.

 

After that, it quickly began to become a routine between them; arriving in training room number 17 as early as they could and leaving as late as they could. It was nice, having a routine like that, but it was also nice to have someone to follow that routine with him. Jongin never really had many friends, dancing always having been the only focus in his life, so having someone to share that passion with was nice.

 

Taemin and Jongin didn’t really hang out outside of training together, but it wasn’t because they didn’t want to, rather than for the lack of time. Taemin also still went to school, and they were both bewildered when they found out that they went to the same school. Taemin was a year above him, though, so they really didn’t see a lot of each other at school, either.

 

It didn’t really bother Jongin. He spent more than half his time awake in the studio anyway, and his time in school was mainly spent with counting down the minutes until the final bell rung, so he really didn’t care about who he’d spend his school days with.

 

Also, Taemin was a great dancer, passing each weekly evaluation with a top score while Jongin was listed around the middle. They were barely a year apart in age, yet Taemin seemed like he could be Jongin’s teacher more than his dance partner.

 

Sometimes, when Jongin saw their names so far apart on the list, it made his chest burn with jealousy. He wondered why Taemin met up with him each day when he was clearly better than Jongin was, when Jongin always took two tries more to pick up the choreography of the week than Taemin, but Jongin was also an incredibly competitive person. Taemin being better than him made him jealous at times, yes, but it inspired him more than anything else.

 

They were in the studio right now, taking a break to gasp some much-needed air into their lungs while wiping the beading sweat along their foreheads off with their shirts. It was summer, temperatures rising to an uncomfortable heat, and with the air-conditioning broken in the studios, training was absolute _torture._

 

Taemin went to sit down on the wooden bench leaning against the wall, plopping down on it with an exaggerated groan of pain. Jongin laughed, walking towards him and grabbing his water bottle. He gulped down half of it, barely dodging Taemin’s hand moving to poke him in the side, before sitting down beside the other, feeling slightly less dead now.

 

“Hey,” Taemin let out after a while of just sitting there with their heads resting against the wall, “do you ever think about what you’d do if you don’t get to debut?”

 

The question had Jongin dumbfounded for a few seconds. They didn’t talk about debuting a lot, even less about the chance of _not_ debuting, so Taemin bringing up the topic got Jongin taken aback a bit.

 

Still, he cleared his throat and said, “I mean, obviously. I’m scared of working so hard every day only to end up at point zero again. Dancing’s my life, and this is my dream, you know? You shouldn’t worry, though. I wouldn’t be surprised if they let you debut tomorrow already.”

 

Taemin huffed out a laugh at that, Jongin mirroring the sound. After some beats of silence, Taemin voiced out a, “you’re great, too, Jongin,” which made Jongin turn his head towards his friend. It wasn’t something Taemin did a lot, complimenting others. Not that he thought nobody deserved it, but because he was just really bad at expressing these thoughts. Jongin learned that about two months ago when he’d asked Taemin why he only ever gave a nod to Jongin’s questions whether that turn was fast enough or if that jump was sharp enough.

 

So hearing Taemin call Jongin _great_ made him feel really proud, for some reason, and he couldn’t stop the small grin taking over his face from appearing.

 

Taemin shoved at his shoulder when he noticed the smug look on Jongin’s face, mumbling a, “don’t get cocky,” before getting back to his feet and start walking towards the iPod, leaving Jongin to let out a small laugh and follow him to continue their training.

 

 

 

When Taemin was pulled aside after their next evaluation by one of the choreographers and the head of the Entertainment, Jongin thinks he already knew what they were going to be talking about. Taemin didn’t join him back in the practice room again for the whole remaining day, and Jongin’s chest felt incredibly heavy as he packed his bags and went to walk out of the room.

 

He was stopped, though, by a buzzing Taemin nearly crashing into him when he rounded a corner, letting out a high sound of surprise at the sudden confrontation.

 

“Jongin! Thank God you’re still here! I couldn’t have waited until tomorrow to tell you, I didn’t want it to be over the phone, but you _have_ to hear it first!” he exclaimed, lips stretched into a wide smile and eyes crinkling at the edges.

 

Jongin knew what was coming, yet the words _I think they want me to debut!_ made something in his stomach sink so hard it felt like someone punched him in the gut. It wasn’t the burning of jealousy like when he saw Taemin’s name above his on the list – it felt more like the times when he couldn’t get a step right for days on end, coming home after his family ate dinner to hide in his room with his back against the wall and his head in his hands.

 

Disappointed. Scared. Forlorn.

 

Jongin wanted to hit himself, then. How dare he? How dare he feel like this when he was supposed to mirror the beam that took over Taemin’s whole being? What kind of best friend was he, to not be happy for Taemin probably getting to finally live his dream?

 

Shame washed over him. Taemin deserved better than that, so after the beats in which Jongin’s face was likely to look frozen, he forced his lips into a big grin and went to hug Taemin close.

 

“I’m so happy for you! I told you you’d be debuting soon,” he said, the words coming out shaky against where they were spoken against Taemin’s neck. His cheeks were hurting with the effort of keeping the smile in place.

 

He was. He was happy for Taemin. Of course he was. He was _thrilled_ that people acknowledged Taemin’s talent after his three years of training, and he was _ecstatic_ that Taemin finally got to take the next step on his road to fulfill his dream.

 

It wasn’t the fact that Taemin was debuting – debuting before him – rather than it was Jongin worrying about being left alone, abandoned once Taemin became famous and didn’t have time for Jongin to be by his side anymore.

 

It was stupid, to be scared of such a thing. They made it clear, during one of their talks about what would happen when they finally got to debut, that they would stay how they are right now. Best friends, through and through.

 

Yet, when Jongin let his arms slide away from where they were resting against Taemin’s frame, he wondered if that thought still mattered.

 

“Hey, are you okay? This isn’t going to change anything, you know that, Jongin. You’ll still be my best friend, and we’re still gonna see each other in every free second I have. Don’t worry too much, okay?” Taemin said, his bright grin replaced by a soft smile. It was the same he wore whenever Jongin was feeling like he wasn’t good enough to pass the next evaluation.

 

This time, Jongin automatically smiled back, cheeks no longer hurting with any strain. He looked at Taemin again, seeing nothing but sincerity reflected in his eyes, and let out an honest, “yeah, I know,” before coercing Taemin to tell him the plans they had for him.

 

 

 

Jongin spent the next few days training alone mainly, Taemin only rushing in when Jongin was about to pack up to tell him about his day.

 

He was spending a lot of time with the members of the group he was to debut with. _SHINee,_ Jongin recalled, made up of five members with Taemin being the youngest. Taemin declared that they were to debut in two months already, promotions steadily growing over the media and anticipation among the Entertainment growing.

 

Jongin was excited, too, to see Taemin release all his energy while recording songs, music videos, and small appearances on television. It was crazy, seeing his best friend look so grown-up at only fourteen, but Jongin never felt prouder.

 

Still, training alone again felt odd. Coming into practice room number 17 and not waiting fifteen minutes for Taemin to show up was something Jongin wasn’t used to anymore, and at one point he didn’t even manage to see Taemin on his way out. They often talked on the phone or sent short messages back and forth until they fell asleep with their phones resting next to their head, eyebags becoming more apparent after each night spent texting until ungodly hours.

 

The churning in his stomach wasn’t as bad as Jongin thought it would grow to be. He still felt left alone in their practice room at times, and to not have someone by his side to correct his moves was excruciating.

 

Taemin showed up sometimes, though, mostly when Jongin was just heading out. They would talk then, sometimes walking around outside but usually staying in the practice room just a bit longer.

 

Like right now, where they were resting against the mirror, legs stretched before them and Taemin rambling about his day while Jongin listened intently.

 

“Kibum’s really funny, too. He said he wants to take me shopping soon, and I don’t know if I should take that as an insult, to be honest,” he said, chuckling slightly, “they all have really really good vocals, I sometimes feel like I won’t be able to keep up! Especially Jonghyun, his voice is _otherworldly_!” Taemin said, excitedly moving his hands so accentuate his rant.

 

Jongin laughed slightly, happy that Taemin got along so well with his new members, even if his chest felt heavy with barely contained anxiety.

 

Taemin was to debut in a week now, every recording was wrapped up and ready to get uploaded everywhere. Jongin didn’t know whether he was anxious in the way Taemin probably was or in the way that left him feeling sick when he left the practice room without running into Taemin.

 

He didn’t want to know, really.

 

As soon as _SHINee_ debuted, Jongin didn’t see Taemin for a whole month.

 

He kept track of every comment on the music videos and every appearance they had anywhere. He texted Taemin a lot still, at first, but when his texts began to go unanswered for longer than a day, he eventually stopped.

 

Jongin continued training alone, settling on filming himself on his phone and reviewing his every move afterwards. It took more time than it did with Taemin’s help, but Jongin managed to get through each evaluation with compliments on his improvement.

 

He still checked in with Taemin, of course. He wouldn’t just stop talking to his best friend in the matter of one day, but their nightly phone calls turned into weakly ones consisting of Taemin yawning into the phone while he tried desperately to stay awake and listen to Jongin rant about their annoying choreographer.

 

It wasn’t great, and it wasn’t them, but Jongin knew that he couldn’t change that. They were living different lives at the moment, and as much as Jongin missed the shared dance practices with Taemin, there wasn’t anything he could do while he was still striving for what Taemin had already achieved.

 

 

 

 In the end, Jongin saw Taemin more than he thought he would.

 

They were still in the same Entertainment, still practiced in the same building, and still both went home the latest.

 

They just didn’t train together a lot anymore, Jongin working on improving every smallest flaw he could find while Taemin practiced with his members for an upcoming stage or some event.

 

Jongin watched, sometimes. It had been nearly two years since Taemin debuted, and the first few months were _horrible –_ both for Jongin personally and for their friendship. They hardly talked - much less actually _saw_ each other, only catching fleeting glances at the other from across the room before going back to work - and somewhere along the line Jongin stopped checking in every day.

 

After nearly a year and a half of interacting less and less, Taemin came by their practice room one evening when Jongin was still repeating the same steps to polish the routine to perfection. He’d opened the door, watching Jongin work for a bit, before getting Jongin’s attention with a loud call of, “guess who’s on break!”

 

It startled Jongin for a moment. The last time they even spent time together in this practice room was _months_ ago, and Jongin was half sure that Taemin had forgotten about him at some point.

 

But right now, Taemin was plopping down on the bench like nothing ever happened, like they were still training together every day and like they hadn’t stopped talking for more than a year. Jongin kind of didn’t know whether he should laugh or be incredibly pissed.

 

Thankfully, Taemin seemed to notice his inner conflict, speaking up again, “look, I know we haven’t really seen a lot of each other in some time, but it was all so stressful and new and I kind of had at least two mental breakdowns every day because I thought that I couldn’t do it and because I couldn’t talk to you. It’s just- I had to train so much I couldn’t even go to school sometimes. My throat hurt constantly because my vocals are, apparently, lacking and my muscles have never hurt this much before, and-“

 

Jongin noticed Taemin was about to start rambling in panic, his hands already shaking and gesticulating wildly in the air as his forehead was creased in a frown. He cleared his throat, cutting Taemin off. “Hey, it’s okay, I get it. I don’t know how I would’ve handled debuting so early, not that I think you aren’t good enough yet, because you _are.”_ Jongin went to walk over and sit beside Taemin, gratefully taking the water bottle the other offered him. “I mean, I was kinda pissed when we stopped talking and you didn’t stop by the practice room anymore, but I knew that you would’ve if you could.”

 

Taemin hummed, nodding slightly before dropping his head on Jongin’s shoulder, heaving a sigh. “I really missed talking to you,” he muttered, Jongin letting out a quiet, “me too.”

 

 

 

After that day, they started going back to how they once were. They called each other every night and texted during every given opportunity.

 

Jongin wasn’t sure if it was just because Taemin was on a break at the moment or if their talk in the practice room really cleared everything up. He really hoped it was the latter.

 

Nevertheless, Taemin spent a lot of time watching Jongin train, helping him with the routines and distracting him when he would stress out too much. It was nice.

 

They also went out a couple of times, strolling around the city with the sun blazing on their skin and some cameras following Taemin around, which made Jongin laugh at his friend and in turn receive a smack to the back of his head.

 

Taemin was on break for around half a year, and when he had his first comeback with his band again, Jongin worried that they would go back to not talking again. Taemin made it clear, though, that he wouldn’t let that happen, making sure to call Jongin every night and text him regardless of Minho trying to throw his phone out of the window at one point.

 

They didn’t see each other a lot, not with Taemin being all over the country, but Jongin still felt their friendship to be as strong as ever.

 

 

 

When Jongin got told that he would be debuting, he was eighteen and immediately called Taemin six times before his friend finally picked up the phone with a groggy voice and a threat of, _“I swear to God, Kim Jongin, if you’re not literally dying right now I’m going to hang up and kill you myself,”_ which was promptly cut off by Jongin yelling into the speaker and probably turning Taemin deaf on one ear. Jongin didn’t even bother asking why the other was sleeping at four in the afternoon, enjoying the incredulous shout of, _“What?!”_ that his friend let out.

 

Taemin came over to Jongin’s house that evening, his mother greeting him with a familiar smile and casual conversation at the dining table. Later, when they lay on the bed propped against the headboard with a movie playing on Jongin’s laptop, the only source of light in the dark room being the glow-in-the-dark stickers on the ceiling, Taemin whispered, “I’m really proud of you, you know?”

 

It was said so quietly over the movie that Jongin momentarily thought he’d imagined it, but when he saw Taemin looking at him with a soft smile grazing his lips, Jongin knew that he’d heard right.

 

Jongin maneuvered himself to comfortably be able to rest his head on Taemin’s shoulder, responding lastly with, “I’m really proud of you, too.”

 

They must’ve fallen asleep like that, because the next thing Jongin heard was an alarm going off somewhere in the room and Taemin groan while stretching his limbs. Jongin moved his head up, wincing at the soreness lacing his shoulders and neck while Taemin blindly fumbled with his phone to shut off the blaring sound.

 

They got up fairly quickly, taking turns showering and Jongin letting Taemin borrow some clean clothes before they made their way to the Entertainment building. Jongin would be meeting his new members today to already start the planning of their debut, and the anxiety thrumming through his veins was only handled with the reassuring touch of Taemin’s hand against his thigh in a calming manner.

 

 

 

Debuting came with a lot of stress, late-night practicing, and early recording. Jongin barely had time to blink during the day, and suddenly he felt incredibly awful for ever blaming their loss of contact on Taemin.

 

Jongin was used to being stressed, his five years of training mainly consisting of it, but he had never before felt completely and utterly drained when he arrived at the new dorms he would be sharing with his 11 members.

 

It wasn’t the nice feeling of fatigue taking over his muscles as he let himself lie down on the bed, neither was it the comfortable feeling of sleepiness slowly making his eyelids droop shut. No, it was the kind of pure exhaustion consuming every fiver of his being, draining not only his body of any energy, but also his mind of any feeling.

 

They had just come out with their first song, the music video uploaded on every platform and the songs ready to be bought, and while they all should be feeling relieved and more relaxed than before, Jongin couldn’t help the anxiety curling around him.

 

What if he wasn’t good enough? What if he debuted too early? What if he would just disappoint everyone? What if he was lacking?

 

The last time he felt like this was when Taemin had debuted almost four years ago. There were other thoughts swarming his head back then, but the suffocating feeling pressuring his chest felt the same right now. He tried to think back on what he would usually do when he felt like this, like he was about to collapse from the weight settled on his shoulders.

 

He took his phone, tapping the first name listed under his favorite contacts before bringing the mobile to his ear, the rhythmic beeping matching his pacing heart.

 

He absentmindedly turned around to look at the clock hanging on the wall, frowning upon seeing the hands signal that it was 1 am already. He wouldn’t pick up, he always sleeps as deep as a rock, especially after such a hard day-

 

_“Jongin?”_

 

Jongin snapped up at the sound of Taemin’s deep groggy voice unexpectedly filling his eardrums, taking a few seconds to even find the words he wanted to say. He cleared his throat slightly, not wanting Taemin to think that he had dialed his number while sleeping _again,_ before stammering, “I- Uh, I’m sorry if I woke you up, you probably need sleep even more than I do. It’s not important, I’m gonna hang up again, sorry-“

 

 _“Jongin, what’s wrong?”_ Taemin’s voice was now more filled with concern than with the residue of sleep, and Jongin let out a sigh before sitting down on the kitchen table, for once thankful that everyone else went to sleep already.

 

“I don’t know. I just feel so- done? I’m sorry,” Jongin said, running his free hand over his face and through his hair before sighing again, “I just- you always managed to talk me down, but I should probably learn to do that myself, you can’t always-“

 

Taemin cut him off for the second time that night _. “Jongin, shut up. You’re at the dorm right now, right?”_ After Jongin’s affirmative hum, Taemin continued. _“Good. Keep the door unlocked, I don’t wanna wake everyone up. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay?”_

 

Jongin was about to open his mouth to resist, but the sound of Taemin’s soft demands kept reverberating in his brain and he couldn’t do anything else than let out his own breathy, “Okay,” before he heard the beeping sound return, signaling Taemin had hung up.

 

Jongin had half the mind to notice how the pressure weighing him down had subsided a bit already just by hearing Taemin’s static voice through the speaker of his phone. There was a small smile playing on Jongin’s lips, a frown however accompanying it with the thought that he’s making Taemin drive through the dark city at one in the morning just because he can’t handle his feelings like a normal person.

 

Jongin shook his head slightly, getting up to sit down on the couch instead. His back was already sore enough, and sitting on a table wouldn’t improve that.

 

It wasn’t long until he heard the front door opening before clicking shut again and a lock being turned into place. He heard some shuffling and some shoes being thrown to the floor before he saw Taemin glance around the living room until his eyes found Jongin on the couch. He smiled, carelessly, and made his way towards him, immediately lying down to rest his head on Jongin’s lap.

 

“Thanks,” Jongin began, voice hoarse and catching in his throat while his hand absentmindedly started sliding through Taemin’s dyed hair, “for coming over, I mean. Must’ve been annoying to be woken up by me.”

 

Taemin laughed a bit at that, closing his eyes. “I mean, I _did_ have a nice dream of the stylists finally stopping putting those god-awful extensions in my hair. I’ve never felt something so uncomfortable in my life! And I look like a girl-group member!” he then said incredulously, making Jongin snort loudly.

 

He started massaging Taemin’s scalp and tried not to notice his heart beating faster at the low sighs the other let out. “Well, I think you look beautiful. I’m gonna tell everyone asking that you’re my girlfriend now.”

 

That comment earned him a slap against his chest and a choked out _“Shut up!”_ from Taemin before they burst out laughing, Jongin trying to shush them between gasps to prevent the others from waking up.

 

After a few more exchanged words between them just sitting on the couch, Taemin reluctantly got up and told Jongin he had to head back to his own dorms or Jinki would literally chop his head off. Jongin laughed again, walking Taemin to the door to say goodbye.

 

It was unexpected when Taemin pulled Jongin in by his waist and slung his arms around his neck to embrace the other in a tight hug, not saying anything except for a quiet, _“Bye, see you soon,”_ before he shut the door behind him.

 

Jongin stayed there, staring at the closed door for another twenty seconds with a light smile on his face but a heavy heart in his chest.

 

 

 

It was a few months later that they started to train together again.

 

Jongin had really missed it, having Taemin by his side and watching him move to a choreography of one of their songs. He’d also missed seeing Taemin every day in general, his bright smile greeting him every morning at six in front of the Entertainment building before they made their way to practice room number 17.

 

It reminded Jongin of the times when they were just trainees, with them dancing until they nearly passed out before making some dumb joke to prompt breathless wheezes out of the other, nearly suffocating in the stuffy room while trying to gasp for air while laughing.

 

Jongin had once thought things would change between them between all the schedules and busy days, but as he watched Taemin slide across the floor, trying to contain his giggles while dancing to one of their old routines for the weekly evaluations from nearly six years ago, Jongin realized that they would always stay the same.

 

The music stopped, and Jongin gave Taemin a round of applause, the other mockingly bowing in an overly-exaggerated manner before retrieving his water bottle from beside Jongin’s spot on the bench.

 

He sat down onto the floor, leaning his sweaty forehead against Jongin’s knee as he looked at his phone, letting out a disgruntled noise upon seeing the time.

 

“It’s already after twelve,” Taemin sighed, though making no move to get up from where he had now turned his head to look up at Jongin.

 

His breath hitched a bit. He should ask Taemin for some water later.

 

Jongin was about to say that they really _should_ leave. They were already the last ones here, every other light in the building turned off and every door closed, but Taemin beat him to it.

 

“Let’s sleep here,” he said, and Jongin was about 90% sure his best friend had lost his mind.

 

“We really can’t do that, Taemin,” Jongin replied, chuckling slightly. Taemin, however, seemed to be as serious as ever. “Come _oooooon_ , Jongin! We’ll be here again in six hours, anyway. Plus, I _really_ don’t wanna walk home right now, and I know you don’t, either!”

 

Taemin was right by that, Jongin _really_ didn’t want to walk anywhere right now. He thinks if he even moves his legs one inch, he’d go falling to the ground like a wet rag.

 

But still- “We’re gonna get in trouble if anyone finds out, you know that,” he said, voice overtaken with a jokingly lecturing tone.

 

Taemin hummed, Jongin feeling the vibrations the notion sent against his knee. “Then we’ll make sure no one does. I’m smart, I have a plan.” Jongin grinned lazily, letting out an, “ _Are you?”_ before letting out an indignant yelp as he felt Taemin bite his thigh through the fabric of his sweatpants.

 

It wasn’t even a minute later that they were dragging some thin yoga-mats from the storage closet, laying them down on the ground before Taemin went to turn the big lights illuminating the room off, basking them in darkness except for the Exit-sign throwing a soft green hue over their faces.

 

Jongin searched for his phone, stubbing his toe on the corner of the bench and letting out a pained groan that was followed by Taemin’s loud laughter before he saw the shape of his phone laying on the floor. He raised it up and turned on the flashlight to avoid stubbing another body part on any furniture, and nearly choked when he saw Taemin pull off his black shirt.

 

It wasn’t like they had never seen each other shirtless before. It was nearly impossible to keep on a shirt during the training in summer temperatures in a stuffy practice room, but back then they were both lanky and awkward and unproportional.

 

Looking at Taemin now, back illuminated by solemnly the bright light coming from Jongin’s phone, he absentmindedly wondered how he couldn’t recall when Taemin had turned from awkward and lanky to strong and defined. What he wondered even more, though, was when he had begun to feel so _intrigued_ by it.

 

The thing was, Taemin has always been attractive in Jongin’s eyes. He’d never given it much thought when the first thing he thought when he met Taemin’s eyes was how he wouldn’t mind staring into them for hours on end, or how touches from the other seemed to leave a lingering heat on his skin after they were long gone already.

 

Jongin doesn’t really know when those things had started. Maybe they didn’t even start, but rather have just always been there, so he really didn’t bother to mull over things that were – supposedly – normal for him to feel towards Taemin.

 

Still, when Taemin turned around to face Jongin again and sent him one of those blinding eye-smiles, he supposes he should _maybe_ think about the way his palms were starting to get sweaty and the hair on the back of his neck began to stand up the moment their eyes met.

 

“Get over here already. And stop blinding me with your phone or I’m gonna smother you in your sleep,” he heard Taemin say, amusement apparent on his face while he studied Jongin’s shell-shocked expression

 

 _Not today_ , Jongin decided. He had enough time to think about this another time.

 

 

 

Jongin woke up to the loud sound of a door closing, eyes immediately falling open.

 

He jerked up, Taemin groaning from his spot next to him when his arm fell from its spot on Jongin’s chest as he heard footsteps approach the room.

 

Eyes widening, he turned to shake Taemin awake, receiving a few more groans and _Shut up, Jongin_ ’s before his eyes finally opened after a smack against his bare shoulder.

 

Taemin was glaring, definitely ready to murder Jongin for waking him in such an aggressive manner. “What the _fuck,_ Jongin-“

 

“Shut _up,_ someone’s coming,” he hissed back, eyes desperately pleading Taemin to come up with something, _anything_ that would keep them from getting into trouble.

 

Taemin’s brain seemed to finally catch up on the situation – the sound of another door closing piercing through the few seconds of utter silence making his eyes widen almost comically – because he started ushering Jongin to put the mats back into the closet and hide their bags and bottles under the bench.

 

There was just one problem, though. “We’re still in the _room_ , Taemin.”

 

Taemin blinked a couple of times, and Jongin would find it hilarious how his drowsiness still seemed to consume his brain if it weren’t for the fact that they were about to get in major trouble.

 

Before Jongin could mutter another word, Taemin’s expression seemed to light up as he grabbed Jongin’s wrist and quickly paced over to the small storage closet containing the yoga mats. Jongin let out a muffled “ _What the fuck”_ when he was shoved into the tiny space, and he nearly had a stroke when Taemin squeezed himself in, too, before closing the closet behind him, letting only a strip of light enter the small space.

 

Jongin’s back was flat against the wall, and he had to duck his head down the slightest bit to avoid bumping it against the top shelve. Taemin’s body was aligned with his, chests pressed together and hips only a few inches apart, and Jongin swears he could feel Taemin’s heartbeat against himself.

 

He felt the soft breaths escaping Taemin’s mouth against his face, and he raised his eyes to look at the other. He found the other staring right back, his engrossed gaze on him making Jongin struggle to let himself blink, not wanting to miss anything crossing Taemin’s face.

 

Taemin’s lips parted a bit, Jongin’s eyes flicking down almost instinctively before immediately moving up again to catch Taemin’s eyes once more. Everything around Jongin suddenly felt too hot, _too tight,_ and he really didn’t think it was because of the closet leaving close to no room for them, especially when he saw Taemin’s eyes move down to watch the movement of Jongin’s tongue licking his chapped lips.

 

Somewhere in the back of his mind Jongin could hear the front door of the building fall shut again, the following minutes completely devoid of any noise except for the sound of Jongin’s heartbeat hammering in his ears.

 

Jongin couldn’t think straight anymore, Taemin’s chest pressing against him and his breath fanning across his cheeks making his head spin and he, without even thinking about it, leaned closer into Taemin just the slightest bit.

 

It was only then that Taemin averted his gaze, his breath hitching audibly as he seemed to snap out from whatever stupor he was under, turning his head to the left and whispering with a notably shaky voice, “I, uh, I think we- we can go out now. Yeah.”

 

Taemin turned around then, opening the closet and stepping out. Jongin followed him in a slow pace, watching his friend retrieve all their belongings from under the bench and arranging them in a neat line on the floor. Taemin always did things like that when he wanted to keep busy, to distract himself.

 

Jongin stuttered out, “I- I’m gonna go- take a shower.” He walked out, not even realizing that he had no set of clean clothes with him.

 

_What the fuck just happened?_

 

 

 

Jongin had never thought that it was possible for him and Taemin to be awkward around each other, but here they were.

 

After that morning in the practice room, the rest of the day dragged on with them only muttering out absolutely necessary words while avoiding catching the other’s eyes from across the room or through the reflection of the mirror like the plague.

 

This wasn’t how they acted towards one another, and Jongin’s chest kept growing heavier and heavier as the day went and their routines kept being repeated and repeated to fill the tense silence consuming the room more and more.

 

Jongin went home earlier that evening, using his healed hip-pain as a bad excuse. Taemin didn’t buy it, of course. Jongin was a horrible liar, especially if he lied to his _best friend._

 

But was that really all they were at this point? Was that _all_ Jongin wanted them to be? He didn’t know, and at this point he felt as if his head was about to explode with all the questions littering his brain.

 

He was laying in his bed, staring at the dark ceiling and remembering the time he was sprawled out in the same spot with Taemin by his side, head resting on the other’s shoulder while the even breaths nearly lulled him to sleep.

 

There were no sounds to calm him down right now, though. Just the occasional clatter resonating from the kitchen from where Chanyeol was probably sneaking some Nutella out of the jar and into his room, accompanied by the unsettling rumble of a dying engine outside.

 

Jongin didn’t think there was anything to fix the way his heart started to beat as fast as it did after a performance on stage every time he thought about the events that had taken place in the practice room that morning, anyway.

 

He’d never felt like this before. _This_ being completely clueless of what the hell he was thinking or feeling, especially regarding _Taemin._ Jongin has known Taemin for seven years, and not _once_ had he felt as if he couldn’t talk to him about any issue occupying his mind.

 

But right now, the problem was that _Taemin_ was the one occupying his mind at all times during the day. There didn’t seem to be a single thing around him that _didn’t_ remind him of Taemin, and it freaked Jongin out how his thoughts kept going down some Taemin-induced rabbit hole.

 

Like right now, where Jongin was watching the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck on his ceiling while he thought back on when he put them up there with Taemin steadying him with a firm grip against his hips. That alone wasn’t special; they did more things together than apart, so _obviously_ Taemin would come to his mind while looking at things positioned in his room. No, that wasn’t the bad part.

 

The bad part was that he’d started to think about what Taemin’s grip on his hips would feel combined with his lips pressing against Jongin’s.

 

He didn’t know when _that_ had started, either. He just knows that _today_ – feeling Taemin’s breath on his lips and his chest against his own – he had _definitely_ wanted to kiss Taemin, and he didn’t know what to do with that information.

 

Jongin had never even _considered_ being in love with anyone – let alone Taemin – but he supposes it shouldn’t be that big of a shocker. Jongin trusts no one more than Taemin, can’t talk to anyone like he can talk to Taemin, and doesn’t think about kissing and touching anyone else than _Taemin._ They’ve always been together, always just _had_ the other, and Jongin thinks that Taemin could just as well be the next _constant_ in his life.

 

Jongin sighed for a long moment, letting the cool air filling his room pool in his lungs before reaching over to grab his phone. He frowned a bit upon not seeing the usual _Good Night_ message from Taemin that usually made his phone chime up at twelve-thirty, but he supposes the other either fell asleep early or was just blatantly ignoring him.

 

Jongin desperately hoped it was the former, but he knew that Taemin would always go through his five-step skin-care routine before even _daring_ to lie down on his bed, and even then he would spend another ten minutes dangling his legs off the edge of it to scroll through his phone mindlessly.

 

Still, Jongin unlocked his phone and typed out a short _Good Night, Taemin_ before quickly shutting it off again, stupidly scared of seeing whether or not the message would be delivered. Jongin turns over then, facing the wall and forcing his eyes to stay shut.

 

His last breaths before he finally succumbed into the depths of sleep revolved around tight grips on his hips and warm breaths tickling his cheeks.

 

 

 

Taemin didn’t come to the practice room the next day. And the day after that. _And_ the day after _that._ It was exactly what Jongin didn’t want to happen to them.

 

Jongin entered the dorms that evening with another full day of lone practice hours fulfilled. It’s been a week since he last saw Taemin, and it started to really bother Jongin how he was clearly avoiding him now.

 

He walked into the kitchen, taking some of the left-over pizza before making himself comfortable on the couch. He leaned forward to slide his phone from his back pocket, not really knowing what to do with everyone asleep in their rooms already. He’d usually just text Taemin and demand to be entertained, but he _really_ didn’t want to deal with the sinking feeling in his chest again when his message went ignored.

 

He sighed, taking a bite from the cold pizza before frowning at the taste of mushrooms invading his taste buds. He put the slice back down, looking to the hallway when he heard a door closing and footsteps approaching.

 

A few moments later, he saw Sehun round the corner, hair a mess and imprints from his pillow on his face. He lazily rubbed his eyes and Jongin cleared his throat.

 

Sehun jumped a bit, making Jongin laugh louder than he intended. “You just woke up?” He asked, turning his body to face his friend still standing in the hallway wholly.

 

“Yeah,” he rasped, voice thick with sleep, “what about you? Not going to sleep?”

 

Jongin watched him walk into the kitchen in search of a midnight-snack, only to let out an annoyed huff upon only finding the gross mushroom pizza and some of Baekhyun’s sugar-free yogurts.

 

“I just got home, wanted to practice some more.” The fridge closed and Sehun walked over to where Jongin was sitting, placing himself on the armchair opposite of the couch. He hummed, taking a sip from the glass of water resting in his hand. “Were you with Taemin again?”

 

Something in Jongin’s chest twinged. “Nah, alone today. He’s busy, I guess.”

 

Jongin must’ve sounded as unsure as he felt, because Sehun’s face pulled into a small frown. “You’re okay though, right?”

 

Jongin fell back against the couch slightly, covering his head his arms. “I kinda don’t know, to be honest. Something weird happened, and things have been pretty odd since then.”

 

The careful way Jongin was wording the phrase made Sehun’s frown deepen, and it didn’t need words for Jongin to feel the other urging him to continue.

 

“Okay. Let’s say, _hypothetically,_ if you suddenly felt weirdly attracted to your best friend, and maybe sorta nearly kissed them in a tight storage closet while trying to avoid getting into major trouble after staying the night in the practice room with them, what would you do if you didn’t want to ruin seven years of friendship?”

 

Jongin didn’t expect it to be this easy, telling Sehun about the whole affair that went down with Taemin. It wasn’t like they didn’t talk about any _serious_ things next to their usual joking around with each other, but Jongin admitting his feelings for his best friend – his _male_ best friend, at that – was a whole new milieu to both him _and_ Sehun.

 

Sehun looked taken aback by Jongin’s sudden ramble, too, eyes widening before he started blinking a few times to process everything Jongin had just ranted about.

He took a deep breath, letting it out through his nose before sitting forward in the armchair. “Uh, alright. What you’re telling me is, that you have-“

 

“ _Hypothetically.”_

“Yeah, right. You’re telling me that, _hypothetically,_ you’re in love with your best friend of seven years and nearly kissed him a few days ago? And now, what, he’s ignoring you?”

 

Jongin looked down on the ground and nodded slowly. This whole thing sounded like a bad high school drama. “He also didn’t show up to practice since the day it happened, and I can’t remember a night where I _didn’t_ spend hours wondering how I’m supposed to fix this.”

 

The younger hummed, thinking. “I think you two should just talk about it. If he doesn’t show tomorrow, go visit him or something, _force_ him to speak with you,” he chuckled, Jongin smiling along. “I’m really bad at this stuff, probably even worse than you, but if I know _anything_ about Taemin, it’s that he wouldn’t just cut you off for having feelings for him.”

 

“Wow, Oh Sehun, since when do you have _feelings?_ You must still be tired from your nap,” Jongin said after a few silent moments, laughing at the quick change of expression on Sehun’s face.

 

“Oh, shut up, go jerk off to Taemin or something,” he then grinned, leaving Jongin to choke on his spit before throwing a pillow at his friend.

 

“Oh my God, I actually can’t believe you just said that. This talk is officially _over,_ I hope you have an awful night,” Jongin responded as soon as Sehun seemed to have calmed down from his laughing-fit.

 

Jongin got up, shoving Sehun’s head a bit as he walked by the armchair.

 

“I’m only gonna have an awful night if you’re not quiet, so my fate lies in your hands,” Sehun snickered again after Jongin was nearly around the corner of the hallway. Jongin picked up the magazine on the commode next to the TV, throwing it at a still-laughing Sehun.

 

He let out a small yelp, “wow, rude! I only wanna be a good friend and request you to relieve some of that sexual tension, and you go and assault me!”

 

“I can’t fucking believe I asked for your help, what the hell was I thinking?” Jongin wondered aloud, choking back a laugh upon seeing the offended look on Sehun’s face.

 

“You know I’m right, though!” He heard Sehun call after him before he shut the door to his room, letting himself fall on his bed to stare at the ceiling once again.

 

Maybe Sehun _was_ right.

 

 

 

Jongin wasn’t surprised to find the practice room empty once again when he entered the next day. Disappointed, yes, but unsurprised.

 

So, while he was setting up his warm-up playlist, he made the quick decision to follow Sehun’s advice and go over to Taemin’s dorms after he was done with rehearsing. Today would be his off-day, anyway.

 

Jongin couldn’t focus for the life of him, missing steps and failing his turns more often than not, and he was beginning to be _really_ infuriated with this whole ordeal.

 

His thoughts just kept swerving back to what he would say to Taemin when he saw him later. What he would do if the air around them didn’t decrease in awkward tension afterwards.

 

He honestly didn’t know what he was going to say. He couldn’t really explain to Taemin why he had nearly kissed him the other day without admitting that he _wanted_ to. He also couldn’t tell Taemin why he was so worried about the other avoiding him without mentioning that he was scared of Taemin hating him because of his feelings towards him.

 

Jongin himself didn’t even really understand the shortness of breath and increase of his heart beat whenever he thought about full-lips and dark hair and eye-smiles at the moment, how was he supposed to talk to Taemin about it? They’d never had issues like this, where Jongin felt as if his problem could potentially ruin the years of friendship they’d shared.

 

He tried to occupy his mind with Sehun’s words. _“Taemin wouldn’t just cut you off for having feelings,”_ he’d said, and Jongin knew that was true. Taemin was nothing but considerate in regards of- well, anything, really.

 

Jongin briefly remembered the time when he told Taemin how he thinks he didn’t like girls the way he was supposed to but found himself looking at boys instead, the other just shrugging his shoulders with a smile. _“I don’t like to limit myself, either,”_ he’d muttered after a few moments, and Jongin had felt as if the weight on his chest lessened by a tenfold.

 

Jongin stopped in the middle of the dance, letting out an exasperated groan at another failed turn before walking over to his iPod to turn the music off. This wasn’t going to work.

 

 

 

The walk to Taemin’s dorm wasn’t long, but Jongin made sure to use every detour possible in a desperate attempt to give himself more time to think about how he was going to approach this.

 

His mind was still running ten miles a minute when he stood in front of the door and raised his hand to ring the doorbell, heartrate going at an unhealthily fast pace when he heard footsteps moving towards the entry.

 

When the door finally flew open, Jongin’s breath hitched a bit in his throat. Taemin was looking at him, shadows under his widened eyes more apparent than Jongin had ever seen them, and he fleetingly thought if he looked the same to Taemin, hair a mess from running his hands through a few times too often and clothes rumpled.

 

Jongin probably looked worse.

 

Taemin cleared his throat slightly, the sound raspy and loud in the otherwise silent setting, and Jongin realized that he was just standing there, staring while saying nothing.

 

He shook his head quickly. “Uh- Hey,” he stammered intelligently, and Taemin’s lips tugged into a small smile.

 

“Hi. Ah, you can come in, the others are in the studio at the moment.” Taemin stepped to the side in order to let Jongin step into the room, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck nervously.

 

 _Cute,_ Jongin’s traitorous mind thought.

 

Jongin slid his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket, walking in after toeing his shoes off. He was even more nervous than he thought he would be, his knees shaking and fingers fiddling with an old pack of gum inside of one of the jacket’s pockets.

 

He made his way to the living room, hearing Taemin walk behind him before he announced, “I’m gonna get some water, just sit down on the couch if you want.”

 

God, this was awkward. He kind of wanted to slap Sehun for bringing this idea up, but he knew if they didn’t fix this now, they never would.

 

Jongin just sat down cross-legged onto the couch when Taemin returned, putting down two glasses of water on the wooden coffee table in front of the couch. He sat down a fair distance away from Jongin with his hands laced together in his lap, and Jongin’s chest felt like it was being squeezed too hard.

 

They sat in silence for what felt like hours but was probably just a minute, staring at the ground or the wall or, really, anything that _wasn’t_ the person sitting opposite them.

 

It was Taemin who broke the oppressing silence first, couching into his hand slightly. “So, uh, what makes you come over?”

 

The question made Jongin angry, to some extent. Mainly frustrated, because how could Taemin even ask that if he was the one avoiding Jongin since _last week_?

 

“Don’t tell me you don’t know _exactly_ why I’m here, Taemin. You haven’t been to the practice room in a _week,_ you’ve been ignoring my texts or just answered that you were _busy,”_ he raised his hands to form quotation marks with his fingers to support the statement, “so, I think _you_ should tell _me_ why I’m here, don’t you think?”

 

Taemin looked taken aback by Jongin’s sudden outburst, his fingers twiddling with the string of his sweatpants while he still didn’t look at Jongin, eyes fixed on the still glass of water.

 

“You’ve been avoiding me for a week, could you at least look at me?” Jongin muttered, tone sounding increasingly defeated.

 

Taemin looked up at that, and for the first time Jongin wasn’t able to read what the other was feeling from looking into Taemin’s eyes.

 

Taemin didn’t say anything for a long moment, only keeping his eyes locked on Jongin’s with a blank gaze. The ticking of the clock on the wall steadily started to drive Jongin crazy with every second that passed, and the intent stare that Taemin was still holding made his hands feel sweaty from where they played with the hem of his jacket.

 

After another long minute of absolute silence on Taemin’s part, Jongin decided to just continue his rambling. “Look, I’m sorry for the whole thing in the storage closet, but believe me when I say that I’ve punished myself enough for it. I don’t think I’ve slept more than three hours every night since last week, and you not talking to me didn’t really help with that. So, if we could _please_ just forget about it and-“

 

“What if I don’t want to?”

 

Jongin stopped, breath halting. He wasn’t even sure if he heard right, with Taemin speaking so quietly, but the way the other averted his eyes from Jongin’s face to stare at the glass of water instead, he knew he’d heard right.

 

Jongin’s mind was swimming, dizzy from that one single sentence Taemin had uttered into the air between them. “What- What do you mean?” He managed to choke out, the words sounding like they didn’t come from his own mouth.

 

Taemin sighed, running his hands over his face before seemingly forcing himself to look at Jongin again. “I mean, what if I don’t _want_ to forget it happened? What if I _liked_ that you nearly _kissed_ me? What if I-“ Taemin cut himself off, and Jongin felt like he’d have to down both glasses of water on the table to be able to form an actual sentence. His throat felt like sandpaper.

 

“What if you what?” Jongin managed to rasp out, and he hadn’t even realized he’d spoken until Taemin cleared his throat again and swallowed heavily before a seemingly determined glint flashed in his eyes.

 

“What if I like _you?_ ” Taemin whispered. Jongin felt like he couldn’t breathe, the only thing on his mind being Taemin, Taemin liking him, and _Taemin._

 

Taemin’s gaze was still firmly locked on Jongin, and there was a small smile tugging at his lips. His eyes were filled with something that Jongin found to be oddly familiar, and when he realized that it was the same infatuated look Taemin wore on a night where they were gazing at the night sky while laying on the roof of Taemin’s parent’s house with the former ranting passionately about the bright stars above them, Jongin’s heart felt like it had never been fuller.

 

“You- You’re serious, right? ‘Cause if this is just a joke, I’m gonna-“

 

Jongin cut himself off upon seeing Taemin scoot closer – _so much closer –_ to him, their knees touching and everything around Taemin going out of focus.

 

Jongin felt like Taemin was stealing all air that Jongin needed to breathe when he brought a hand to rest on Jongin’s thigh, making him struggle to look like he wasn’t about to pass out from the blood rushing to his head.

 

Taemin let a gentle smile overtake his whole face now, his thumb rubbing circles on his thigh. “No, Jongin, I’m not joking,” he breathed, and Jongin had a brief flashback to the last time he’d felt Taemin’s breath fan across his cheeks.

 

Jongin wasn’t planning on letting it go down like it had last time, though, so he moved his hand to lightly grab Taemin’s hip, all the while never letting himself avert his gaze from Taemin’s dark eyes.

 

When he saw Taemin’s eyes snap down towards Jongin’s lips, he started to let a smile creep onto his face. “I really want to kiss you,” Taemin then said, letting his gaze linger on Jongin’s lips for a moment before travelling back up to settle it on his eyes again, “can I kiss you?”

 

Jongin thinks that it’ll be pretty difficult to kiss him right now, his lips stretched into a wide smile, but he still nodded his head, hitching out a “ _Yeah, please”_ along with it.

 

He felt Taemin’s free hand come up to rest on the side of his neck, cradling the left side of his face before he started to move even closer. Jongin closed his eyes, focused on the way Taemin’s breath became more apparent with every second passed until he felt their lips tentatively brush together.

 

It was Jongin who pressed his lips against Taemin’s wholly in the end, and it felt like everything around them had just stopped. The feeling of having Taemin’s lips on his own is something he could never describe, and something the weeks – or even _months –_ of fantasizing couldn’t do justice.

 

Jongin mirrored Taemin’s placement of his hand, sliding it up his chest and letting it rest when he reached the back of Taemin’s neck, pulling him impossibly closer when his lips started moving beneath Jongin’s pliant ones.

 

There weren’t fireworks exploding in his stomach, or butterflies bursting through his chest. Kissing Taemin simply felt like breathing after having your head underwater for a beat too long, filling Jongin with an inducing feeling that he could feel from head to toe. Kissing Taemin felt like something that was long, _long_ overdue, something that had been pending in the air between them for longer than either of them had ever realized. Kissing Taemin felt like everything else in their relationship; easy, normal, and utterly consuming.

 

The shared kisses grew more incessant, lips opening underneath each other and gasps being breathed into the space between them. Jongin shuffled a bit, stretching his legs to let Taemin move into his lap, their chests pushed together once again.

 

Jongin gasped a bit when he felt Taemin tangle his hand into his hair, tugging at the ends the slightest bit. The other chuckled a bit against his mouth, and Jongin would be offended if he weren’t left completely at mercy when he felt Taemin’s tongue swipe along his bottom lip before the sensation was replaced by Taemin nipping at the same spot, making Jongin whine embarrassingly loudly.

 

Jongin opened his mouth the next time he felt Taemin’s tongue prod against his lips, letting his own slide along Taemin’s. It was a whole new feeling, their tongues entangling and sliding against each other, and it left Jongin positively _buzzing_ with the feeling of being so close to Taemin that he could literally taste him.

 

Taemin tasted sweet, the underlying taste of mint tea and strawberries still prominent, but there was a distinct flavor that Jongin could only describe to be utterly _Taemin._ It was something he would get addicted to way too fast, Jongin thinks.

 

Taemin moved back eventually, leaving them both breathless and gasping. Jongin took a moment to look at Taemin - wide-blown pupils, glazed eyes, and swollen lips tinged redder than the time they jokingly put on a cherry lip-stain – and he had to concentrate to not say something completely embarrassing.

 

He let another smile take over his face before dropping his head on Taemin’s shoulder, the latter just letting out a soft laugh before pressing a small kiss on top of his hair.

 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” Taemin admitted, still struggling a bit to breathe properly.

 

“You did?” Jongin asked, voice muffled from where he spoke into the juncture of Taemin’s neck.

 

Taemin hummed, moving to stroke up and down Jongin’s back. “Mhhhh, the storage closet thing made me realize a lot of things. Sorry for avoiding you, by the way. I was kinda really freaking out over me maybe being in love with my best friend, you know.”

 

Jongin snorted a bit at that, raising his head to look at Taemin smile softly. “Yeah,” he said then, chuckling quietly, “trust me, I know.”

 

The next minutes were spent with both of them simply enjoying the warmth of the other’s body against theirs and the lighthearted laughs that occasionally left Jongin’s mouth when Taemin moved to softly tickle his side.

 

At some point, Jongin had let his head drop onto Taemin’s shoulder again, breathing in the familiar scent of him. He felt more than heard Taemin hum before speaking through the comfortable silence. “Do you wanna stay the night?”

 

Jongin should probably mentally go through his schedule for the next day, see if they had any group practices tomorrow, but he _also_ knew that he wouldn’t deny the offer even if he had a twelve-hour schedule. How could he, when Taemin was speaking to him with his soft voice and had his fingers play with his bleached strands of hair?

 

So Jongin simply let out a quiet, “yeah, of course,” before he let his eyes fall shut. He probably shouldn’t fall asleep right now - with Taemin sitting comfortably on his lap and his head positioned in a weird angle against Taemin’s shoulder –, so he let out a longsuffering sigh before moving his head back up to face Taemin again, eyes still shut loosely.

 

Taemin laughed, bringing a hand up to rub over Jongin’s closed eyes. “Do you wanna go take a nap? I can get some food and wake you up when I get back,” he asked, prying Jongin’s eyes open with two fingers while still huffing out gasping laughs.

 

Jongin finally opened his eyes, taking in the sight that is Taemin with his eyes scrunched up in a dazzling smile. “You wouldn’t mind? I really wanna spend time with you. I missed you,” he said, the last part muttered out quietly.

 

Taemin’s smile grew soft. “We have enough time later. Now, come on, you can sleep in my bed.”

 

Taemin got up, and Jongin immediately missed the warmth that Taemin’s body gave him. Taemin grabbed his hands and dragged him up, letting out joking complains of, “God, Jongin, help me out here! You’re too heavy!”

 

Taemin offered him some clothes when he saw Jongin frown at his uncomfortable skinny jeans, and Jongin looked at him gratefully before accepting the black sweatpants that Taemin retrieved from his closet.

 

Jongin threw himself on the bed after unceremoniously throwing his jacket on the floor, turning onto his back to look up at Taemin. The latter snickered at the sight before stepping closer to the bed and leaning down, his nose brushing against Jongin’s.

 

“Sweet dreams. I’m gonna wake you up in an hour or something, okay?”

 

Jongin nodded, moving his hand to Taemin’s neck once again. “See you soon,” he smiled before leaning in, willing Taemin to cross the fleeting distance between their lips. When he did, Jongin let out a relaxed sigh, melting into the kiss. He would never get used to this.

 

Their lips moved against each other innocently until Taemin pulled away after some moments, straightening up again and smiling a final time at Jongin before he stepped out of the room, softly letting the door fall shut behind him.

 

This time, when Jongin stared at the ceiling, he couldn’t feel the usual pressure in his chest like when he spent the previous nights sleepless and consumed by deep thoughts whirling through his mind, no. He only felt the tingle in his lips and the burn against his neck where Taemin’s hands had touched him before he’d left.

 

He fell asleep to the soft sounds of birds chirping outside and Taemin’s scent invading his senses.

 

 

 

When Jongin had woken up again, it was to the indignant sound of his phone buzzing on the bedside table. He groaned weakly, fumbling around before grabbing it and scrolling through the notifications that caused him to wake up from his slumber.

 

It was Sehun. _Of course_ it was Sehun, because who else would blow up his phone after he didn’t answer for an hour?

 

He didn’t even bother to read them all, only answering the latest one that asked _Where are you?_ with a curt text back saying that he was over at Taemin’s, and that he would be staying the night, to which Sehun replied in a matter of seconds with an array of inappropriate emoji’s.

 

Jongin rolled his eyes before stretching his limbs until he heard the satisfying pop in his joints. He glanced at the clock hanging on Taemin’s wall and wondered if Taemin had taken longer to get food than he thought, since Jongin had been sleeping for a whole hour and a half already.

 

Slightly confused, he got up and made his way towards the kitchen to satisfy his dry throat with some water. He still couldn’t fully comprehend that what had happened actually _happened_ and wasn’t part of some kind of dream, and he was half preparing himself to pour his filled glass of water over himself instead of drinking it.

 

The way he nearly choked on said water when he felt two arms encircle his waist from behind should be enough proof that he was, indeed, awake, Jongin figured.

 

Once he put the glass down, he turned around to face Taemin. “Hey, I thought you were gonna wake me?” Jongin asked, one hand grasping Taemin’s resting on his hip.

 

Taemin hummed a bit, letting go of the grip he had on Jongin to open some cabinets and retrieve two dishes along with some chopsticks, Jongin going over to set everything down on the small kitchen table.

 

“Yeah, but I thought you should rest as much as you can, you seemed really tired,” Taemin said, frowning slightly.

 

 “You really aren’t one to talk, I’m sure you’re nearly toppling over with your whole solo-debut.” That made Taemin laugh slightly while shaking his head, amused by Jongin trying to steer the attention away from him.

 

Later, they sat down for dinner, just the two of them. Taemin had gotten some fried chicken for them to share, and Jongin had problems eating because they laughed so much about every stupid thing.

 

Still, Jongin couldn’t help the interrupting thoughts that entered his mind, making him wonder what was going to happen to him and Taemin now.

 

They’ve been only best friends for seven years, never taking a step beyond that, and even though Jongin really wants to take that step beyond and make something _more_ out of their relationship, he doesn’t know if Taemin wants the same.

 

What if he just wants to be a friends-with-benefits thing? Taemin didn’t seem like the type to do something like that, but you never know, or what if he realizes in a few days that being with Jongin isn’t what he wanted, after all? What if he just wants them to stay as friends, or-

 

“Are you good? You look like your head’s about to combust,” he heard Taemin speak through his hasty thoughts, his hand twitching when he felt Taemin cover it with his own.

 

Jongin sighed, knowing that he wouldn’t get away with lying to Taemin even if he wanted to. He’s tried to before, and just ended up on the receiving end of a disappointed frown.

 

“I was just thinking… What- What are we?” The sentence sounded so stupid in Jongin’s ears, like something that would be written in a script for a 2012 teenage chick-flick movie, but he really didn’t know how to form the words on a way that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete fool.

 

Taemin seemed to notice his inner quarrel – or Jongin’s growing frown on his forehead -, because he felt his hand being squeezed by Taemin’s and looked up to see the warm smile on the other’s face beaming back at him.

 

“Well,” Taemin began, and Jongin’s pulse spiked up again, “we’re just… us. Whatever we want us to be. I personally like the word _dating,_ but we don’t have to be anything if you don’t want.”

 

His hands were definitely shaking by now, and he was sure Taemin felt it in the way he was grasping Jongin’s hand tightly.

 

“I really like that word, too,” Jongin let out in a breath, letting the smile pulling at his lips take over. Taemin’s thumb stroked circles against Jongin’s hand, the touch leaving the skin there warm and buzzing, and Jongin wondered how things managed to always be this easy between them.

 

Taemin then leaned over the table to press a chaste kiss to Jongin’s lips, to which Jongin responded with a surprised sound before urgently reciprocating. Taemin’s hand just started to move from Jongin’s hand to his shoulder when they heard the door fall open, followed by a group of loud voices filling the dorms with noise.

 

They jumped apart, Taemin nearly making the chair he was sitting on tip over when he plopped back down on it, and Jongin nearly tipping his glass of water over when his hand moved too fast.

 

Jongin really hoped his face wasn’t burning right now, but by the feel of it, he was probably bright red by now. Sometimes he really hated Taemin’s incapability of blushing.

 

Kibum was the first to enter the kitchen, followed by a loudly-talking Jonghyun who seemed to try and express his passion for some music piece they had watched in the car while balancing an overfilled bag of groceries in his arms.

 

Jongin watched as Kibum turned around to laugh at him for a moment before taking the bag from him and setting it onto the counter. They only seemed to notice them now, because Jonghyun smiled brightly before loudly greeting Jongin.

 

“What are you two doing?” he heard Kibum ask, and Jongin’s mind seemed to shut down.

 

He cleared his throat a bit. “Oh, you know. Just talking and stuff.”

 

He saw Taemin wince in his peripheral vision and Kibum narrow his eyes at them. Goddamn, why was Jongin so bad at lying?

 

Thankfully, Minho and Jinki decided that it was the perfect time to call Kibum over to give them the _goddamn Playstation controllers, why are they always in your room?!_

 

Jongin had to stifle a laugh behind his hand at Kibum’s sudden terrified look before he darted out of the room, leaving only Jonghyun in the kitchen to put away the groceries while humming one of Taemin’s songs under his breath.

 

Jongin and Taemin looked at each other, both urging the other to speak up and make steer the situation away from becoming awkward with facial expressions that would probably make outsiders think they were having a stroke. Eventually, Taemin shot Jongin a glare before turning to face Jonghyun with a small cough.

 

“So,” he began, trailing off slightly, probably waiting for Jongin to jump into the conversation, “was practice okay? Kibum didn’t steal your water again?” Jonghyun let out a lighthearted chuckle at that, closing the last cupboard before stuffing the plastic bag into the trash.

 

Jonghyun went on to tell them about the upcoming schedules as a group, but how Taemin would have another few weeks of break because of his solo-debut. They talked some more about Taemin’s upcoming tour and Jongin’s comeback with EXO, but after some time Jonghyun announced that he would get back to his room and rest a bit. Before he walked out of the kitchen completely, though, he looked at Taemin and Jongin again and grinned, “your lips are kinda red, by the way. Our Makeup-artists won’t be happy about that, Taeminnie.”

 

Taemin whipped his head towards Jongin, mouth open and eyes widened, Jongin probably mirroring his expression. Jonghyun let out a loud snort at the scene before making his way towards his room, stopping for a few minutes to watch Minho and Jinki play with the Playstation while Kibum watched.

 

They were still just looking at each other, shocked. It wasn’t long, though, until Taemin burst into loud laughter, making Jongin unable to do anything else than join him with his own wholehearted chortles.

 

 

 

They went to Taemin’s room eventually, the chairs in the kitchen no longer comfortable after sitting in them for over an hour and too far apart from each other. Taemin didn’t blink twice when Jongin lay down on his bed, rolling over to rest on the side closest to the wall, the unspoken agreement that Jongin would get to sleep against the wall whenever they spent a night at Taemin’s still intact ever since their first sleepover as trainees.

 

Jongin tiredly blinked up at Taemin, watching the other open the window to let some fresh air into the room while they slept before shrugging his sweatpants off, leaving him in his usual sleeping attire that consisted of whatever shirt he was wearing at the moment and his boxers.

 

Jongin averted his eyes for a moment before realizing that he was _allowed_ to look now, he was allowed to rake his eyes over Taemin’s figure and let his gaze linger without it being painfully awkward once the other realized after some time. And it happened pretty often, too, because Taemin was beautiful and couldn’t _not_ be stared at.

 

There was something different about the way Taemin looked in moments like these; with his face bare of any makeup, his hair tousled and unkempt, a lazy smile on his face, and a hint of redness still prominent on his full lips.

 

Before, when Jongin caught himself thinking that way, he would force his mind away from the topic, stunned at how just simply _looking_ at Taemin could leave him utterly breathless for a few moments. Now, with Taemin smiling back at him while lying down beside him, he simply let a tired smile graze his face and let out a deep breath into the dark air around them.

 

Jongin felt Taemin shift next to him before letting his head rest on Jongin’s shoulder, even breaths fanning warmly against Jongin’s neck as his own hand came to circle around Taemin’s waist.

 

It wasn’t the first time they were laid down like this; limbs entangled and breaths nearly shared. On the days where Jongin would be stressed out, or when Taemin would reluctantly tell Jongin about his too-high goals of being the best, either of them would go over to visit the other. They would fall asleep somewhere deep into the night after talking for hours or frankly not uttering a single world at all, just basking in the feeling of reassurance brought by warm arms wrapped around each other.

 

Jongin turned his head slightly, making Taemin look up at him slowly.

 

“You’re beautiful,” Jongin mumbled, not really meaning to say the words out loud but not regretting them in the slightest when he saw the small pout form on Taemin’s lips. Jongin wondered if he was blushing, too, for once, but with the only light-source being a nearly broken streetlamp that shone through the partly-closed curtains into Taemin’s room, it was impossible to tell.

 

“Shut up, that was _so_ cheesy,” Taemin muttered back, but the unrestrained smile growing on Taemin’s face again was enough to tell Jongin how much he really liked it.

 

The small laughter from Jongin’s throat filled the room with light noise for a moment before Taemin pressed a last, lingering kiss against his lips, and Jongin’s brain still needed a few beats to catch up and not lie there completely frozen. Their lips moved together lazily, parting a few times before reconnecting again after breathing in the much-needed air. There were no underlying intentions behind the slide of their lips, just the need of feeling the other after so many months of only _wanting_ but never _having_.

 

When they parted eventually, Jongin didn’t need the small ray of light illuminating the room to know that Taemin’s lips were nicely swollen and his cheeks tinted an endearing pink. Taemin left his eyes closed, dropping his head back on Jongin’s shoulder before muttering out, “Good Night, Jongin.”

 

Jongin let his hand squeeze Taemin’s waist a bit, responding with his own whispered, “Good Night, Taemin.”

 

That night, Jongin didn’t spend a second staring at a blank ceiling with traitorous thoughts occupying his mind, only seeing Taemin’s face peacefully resting on his shoulder, his slow breathing filling his ears.

 

 

 

It was undeniable from the start that it wouldn’t come as easy as breathing, their relationship.

 

There has always been a somehow peculiar amount of touching between them. It came as naturally as walking at the same pace with the same foot, one arm always either resting on the other’s shoulder completely or at least leaving their arms brushing against each other after every other step. As naturally as leaning just slightly too close while whispering joking-nothingness during the loud announcing of an award show.

 

It had only occurred to Jongin how much they absentmindedly stroked over each other’s skin when he tried to reduce it. It seemed like his hands were attracted to Taemin’s skin like a moth is to light, always hovering close if not able to touch.

 

Jongin had never thought twice about engulfing Taemin in a tight back-hug in front of an entire hall filled with an audience only _waiting_ for some scandal to happen, never thought twice about grabbing Taemin’s hand while being filmed for some reality show. But he also never had to worry about someone finding out about them dating, because back then, they _weren’t._

 

There wasn’t a big difference between the amount of touching they did before, and how much they did _now._ The only thing where they’d started from scratch was kissing and onwards, so Jongin should really just _relax and do what you feel like doing, it’ll be more conspicuous if we don’t touch at all,_ in Taemin’s words.

 

So, after that, Jongin tried to let loose and stop his thoughts from running around worst-case scenarios all the time, letting his touches on the small of Taemin’s back linger a few moments longer and moving too close to his neck when talking to him again.

 

There weren’t really _dates_ they went on, at least not the kind of dates that someone would imagine two people going on. They’d gone out to eat in restaurants that stood on the brink of being too sumptuous for two just-friends to attend a few times, had gone to watch a movie too close to midnight to end in something that was appropriate for the public to see too often to keep count.

 

They were careful, always, but it was just a matter of time before they would become too daring.

 

They’d been close before, when Taemin and he had met up after finishing rehearsal with their respective groups to spend some time in practice room number 17 under the distortion of _just wanting to practice together some more._ Taemin had come up to him, look caught between amused and terrified, and when he had told Jongin that his manager had asked if they were dating, Jongin nearly lost balance from where he was stretching his leg on the barre.

 

“Don’t worry, I said we weren’t. There’s no reason for him to know yet,” Taemin had said, and Jongin’s chest relaxed in relieve.

 

One night, Taemin had called him after midnight, Jongin’s clothes already switched with some wide shirt and long sweatpants. They hadn’t seen each other at all that week, Taemin just having returned to Seoul that day after being away to Japan to give his concert, so when Taemin demanded to be met at the park near Hangang, there really wasn’t that long of a debate before Jongin moved to get dressed again before quietly leaving the dorms and jog over to the park.

 

It had been comforting, calm, to stroll around the park with his arm locked around Taemin’s shoulder while talking about everything but nothing at the same time. It was enough at the moment, only having Taemin in the private of their own homes or behind the risky shadows of the night, as long as he could feel Taemin’s warm hands slide against his skin and his wet lips lock onto his whenever they had the chance.

 

When Jongin had checked his phone the next morning and saw an article claiming to have caught Lee Taemin and Kim Jongin on a date, he merely let out a chuckle upon finding the blurry fan-taken pictures of them laughing and walking close beside each other.

 

Jongin saved the pictures. No one had to know.

 

 

 

Weeks had turned into months, and months had somehow turned into years, and Jongin was astonished at how time had flown by between hasty schedules with daily calls in order to hear Taemin’s gravelly voice over his phone when everything else was silent, only the soft laugh on the other end lulling him to sleep.

 

Being apart from each other so much wasn’t amazing, but it made them induce in every situation spent together even more, making the days of their reunions something to look forward to instead of dreading the days where one of them had to leave again.

 

Right now, Jongin was seated in a plane flying back to Seoul, whereas Taemin was being dragged to an already-rented club. It was his birthday, and Jongin and their friends made sure that Taemin enjoyed it, even if it meant towing a whining Taemin by the nape of his neck through the alleys of the busy city.

 

Taemin didn’t know Jongin was coming. It made his knee bounce in excitement, repeatedly bumping against the small table folded down before him and probably driving the foreign woman sitting in front of him crazy. He tried fidgeting with the cable of his headphones instead, but then he just kept on changing his position in the small seat.

 

They hadn’t seen each other in two weeks. It had been the longest they had gone without at least seeing the other once at the studio or in a park, their schedules lining up perfectly to make them unable to meet at any time. Today, though, Jongin managed to convince their manager to let him fly home two days before the others, and he nearly ran from the airport to the taxi rank.

 

As soon as Jongin stepped out of the car in front of the club, he heard the loud music already blaring through the streets. He felt kind of gross, not having stopped at the dorms before coming here and still wearing the clothes from the long flight, but he really couldn’t care when he saw Taemin lean against the bar as soon as he entered the dark club. He was looking over the crowd, sipping on some pink drink with a small umbrella inside of it, clearly not enjoying this party as much as he should. Jongin smiled to himself, bouncing on the balls of his feet slightly. This was _perfect._

 

He moved swiftly through the crowd, muttering curt excuses and nods of recognition whenever he caught someone’s eyes, but never stopping once. Taemin’s eyes found him when they were only a few feet away, and Jongin really wished someone would’ve been recording Taemin’s face when he saw Jongin walk over to him, nearly choking on his drink and eyes widening in disbelief.

 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Taemin yelled over the music, and Jongin laughed. “I can leave, you don’t sound too happy-“

 

His jabbing was cut short when Taemin pulled him into a tight hug, letting his head rest in the juncture of Jongin’s neck while muttering an amused, “Shut up, don’t you dare leave, especially not without me.”

 

Jongin moved his arms around Taemin’s waist as an answer, squeezing him tight to his chest. He jumped a little when he felt Taemin’s tongue lick at the skin of his neck, just under his jawline, and he nearly let an embarrassing sound tumble out of his lips when he felt Taemin begin to nibble and suck at the spot.

 

He moved up, then, letting his lips trail the shell of Jongin’s ear. “C’mon, Jongin,” he whispered, the warm breath making Jongin shiver despite the hot air filling the nightclub, “let’s go home. You must be _exhausted.”_

 

“You- you’re the reason for this party, we can’t just-“ Jongin cut himself off with a gasp that would’ve been too loud if it weren’t for the deafening music resonating in the room when Taemin bit on his earlobe, soothing it with a soft lick of his tongue after.

 

“Sure we can. Pretty much everyone’s drunk already, they won’t notice.” Taemin’s voice was a low rasp, deeper either because of the hot air surrounding them or just the plain urge to drive Jongin wild. He suspected it was the latter, if the way the other’s eyes were darkened already, glazed over with want when he pulled away, was anything to go by.

 

 _Fuck it,_ Jongin thought, promptly grabbing Taemin’s wrist from where it was resting against the back of his neck, dragging him through the mass of people again until they could feel the fresh air fill their lungs instead of the stuffiness in the club.

 

They sauntered through the streets by foot, not bothering to hail a cab. Jongin had his arm comfortably wrapped around Taemin’s shoulder, walking probably a little too close to be deemed _normal_ if there were any cameras following them.

 

But with Taemin’s head leaning slightly towards him while he rambled about Jonghyun dragging him out of his room, his hands gesticulating wildly in front of them, Jongin couldn’t bring himself to mind.

 

Arriving in front of the dorms, Jongin spent five minutes rummaging through his backpack, searching his keys while Taemin kept stroking his hands up and down his chest, sometimes letting the tip of his fingernail trail over his neck. It made Jongin’s eyes flutter and his hands shake, letting the key drop into the bag twice after finally finding it.

 

Once he managed to open the door, he waited for Taemin to enter first before stepping in himself, locking the door behind him and dropping his backpack to the floor. As soon as he turned around and took a step forward, he was directly pushed back against the door, Taemin’s lips harshly pressing against his.

 

Jongin gasped with surprise but quickly composed himself, letting his hands grab Taemin’s hips again to stroke against the hot skin underneath his shirt. He reveled in Taemin’s intake of a shivering breath, using the opportunity to let his tongue lick against the other’s full lips. Taemin pushed back insistently, moving his tongue against Jongin’s in a way that had his mind already dazed.

 

Jongin absentmindedly pushed his shoes off, leaving them carelessly in the hallway while he urged Taemin to walk backwards towards where he knew Jongin’s room lay. They didn’t break the feverish kiss until Taemin nearly knocked down the plant standing on the commode in the living room, Jongin pulling back with a laugh upon seeing Taemin’s exasperated expression.

 

Taemin laced their fingers together before pulling Jongin inside his room, shutting the door and Jongin, once again, found his back pushed flush against it. He really didn’t mind, though, not with the feeling of Taemin kissing hotly up his neck while his soft hands slid under his shirt, trailing upwards to flick over his nipples.

 

Jongin’s breath hitched at the contact, and he moved his head back to give Taemin all the space he wanted to mark his neck up.

 

Taemin only moved away for a moment to pull Jongin’s shirt off, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor before catching Jongin’s lips in another open-mouthed kiss, tongue tasting the inside of his mouth.

 

Jongin pushed himself off the wall, coaxing Taemin to walk backwards until his knees hit the frame of his bed. Taemin fell down with Jongin on top of him, letting out a grunt at Jongin landing heavily on his chest before he moved them upwards a bit, resting his head on a pillow. Jongin looked down at Taemin for a moment, letting his hands drag the smooth fabric of his shirt up and off before he let himself be pulled down again.

 

Taemin turned them over eventually, clearly having a plan in mind while he peppered Jongin’s neck in sharp bites and soft kisses. He trailed his lips down, stopping to tease Jongin’s nipples with little kittenish licks of his tongue before continuing with sucking marks onto the even skin of Jongin’s stomach.

 

His hands swept over Jongin’s jeans, palming his growing erection over the fabric before opening the button with swift fingers. Jongin’s breath was coming out in pants by now while looking down at Taemin pull open the zipper with his _teeth, for fuck’s sake,_ and when his too-tight jeans were finally off and Taemin proceeded to mouth at his dick through the thin fabric of his boxers, Jongin thought he was about to lose his mind.

 

When at last his underwear was thrown somewhere to the floor as well, his dick unrestrained and heavily resting on his stomach, Taemin gave him a wicked grin through his lashed before licking Jongin’s member from bottom to top, engulfing the head into his warm mouth and letting his tongue dip into the slit.

 

Jongin’s pants turned into breathless moans, silently urging Taemin to continue, because he needed this, needed _Taemin,_ so bad he thinks he can taste it.

 

Taemin grabbed the base, sucking on the tip while circling his tongue around the head before slowly going down, taking in more of Jongin with each breath he let out. As Jongin felt his dick hit the back of Taemin’s throat, he moved his hand to grab the blonde strands of hair between his fingers, not pushing him down, simply needing something to hold onto.

 

Taemin then began bobbing his head at an even pace, his hand abandoning Jongin’s dick in order to hold his hips with a firm grip. The room filled with the obscene sounds of Taemin’s mouth working on his cock and the increasingly loud moans falling from Jongin’s mouth.

 

He was already close, two weeks definitely being too long to be apart from Taemin, and when he felt Taemin take him in nearly completely, throat working while he swallowed around the cock in his mouth, he pulled on Taemin’s hair urgently.

 

The latter didn’t budge, though. “God. Fuck, Tae- _Taemin,_ ah, I’m close- _fuck_ ,” he managed to choke out, eyes already rolling to the back of his head when Taemin just kept sucking the head furiously, head moving down occasionally to swallow Jongin’s dick whole.

 

The warm coil in Jongin’s stomach tightened, and he felt his release creep up on him at a fast pace. His fingers tugged Taemin’s hair, making the other hum around his dick, the sound leaving delicious vibrations coursing through his body, and that was it.

 

Jongin threw his head back, mouth open in a silent scream, eyes scrunched tightly shut as he came steadily into Taemin’s mouth. He felt Taemin swallow around him, his throat tightening around the tip of his cock before he began moving his head up and down at a slow pace again, helping Jongin ride out his orgasm until oversensitivity took over.

 

Jongin pulled Taemin up eventually, lips finding each other desperately. He tasted himself on Taemin’s slick tongue, and it should be disgusting, but it has never been with Taemin.

 

Jongin moved his knee between Taemin’s still-clad legs, making him gasp sharply into their kiss. Jongin made quick work of removing Taemin’s pants and boxers, leaving him as bare as Jongin.

 

His dick was painfully hard, tip red and bedding with precum. Jongin let his fingers wrap tightly around Taemin, moving at a fast pace he knew Taemin would get off to anytime. Taemin broke the kiss in order to let out a loud moan, his hands pawing at Jongin’s chest while his hand moved expertly over his heavy cock.

 

Jongin began rubbing his hand over the sensitive head, making Taemin whimper under his breath when Jongin bit at his pulse point, marking the side of his neck with red-blossoming bruises.

 

Taemin’s hips started to buck into Jongin’s hand at a rhythmic pace, his steady moans turning breathy and high when his arms holding him up started to shake. Jongin squeezed the head before sliding smoothly over the whole length, sucking on the spot just below Taemin’s ear right as he felt the other tense up in his arms and shoot warmly over his hand and onto his stomach.

 

Taemin’s hips stilled, and he whined slightly when Jongin kept on stroking his cock leisurely before he eventually dropped his hand, letting Taemin roll to the side and lie on his back. Jongin reached for the tissues, cleaning them up as much as possible before dumping the used fabric somewhere near the trash.

 

He let himself fall down beside Taemin, laying down on his side to look at the other with a small smile on his face. Taemin turned his face to look at him, eyes hazy and only focused on Jongin before shuffling closer, tangling their legs together and throwing the blanket over their bodies.

 

“Hey,” Jongin whispered into the air between them. Taemin let out a low hum, opening his eyes to look at Jongin again.

 

“Happy Birthday, Taemin.” Taemin’s small smile was blinding even in the darkness surrounding them, and the soft kiss placed on his lips was more of an answer than any words could ever be.

 

Jongin fell asleep that night, with Taemin’s breath fanning over the expanse of his neck and their chests moving against each other with each intake of air, and for once he wasn’t staring at a blank ceiling, and there wasn’t a single worry clouding his mind.

 

There wasn’t a single thing in life Kim Jongin would see as a _constant,_ but when he woke up the following morning with the golden sunlight filtering through the windows, hitting Taemin’s body still entangled with his own and feeling Taemin’s breath still steadily brush over the side of his neck, Jongin thought that he could make more than just one exception.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This has been the longest thing I have ever written, and of course it's Taekai. I just love them too much for my own good.
> 
> I really hope you liked it. Comments or Kudos are really appreciated, so let me know your thoughts on this! 
> 
> As always, you can scream to me about anything on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nsftaemin)!


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